Angels weeping or otherwise
by Irken Invader
Summary: Gabriel reluctantly investigates a "haunted" house.


He came to the little town that no one cared about because it felt strange. Normally he wouldn't care, would force himself to ignore it. It was the humans' problem; if the vanilla humans couldn't live with it, couldn't fix it, it was a problem for the hunters; if it was a big enough problems that humans at all couldn't take care of it, let his brothers and sisters deal with it; if it came down to needing family intervention, all the more reason for him to stay as far away as possible.

But, the problem was, nobody came to fix it. It wasn't enough to skirt the town whenever he passed by. Anywhere on the entire continent, he could feel that horrible prickling on the edges of his mind, a never-ending reminder that that wrongness was still airing its dirty laundry where it had no place being at all. So he did the only reasonable thing there was to do: flee to Tahiti.

He spent a few lovely decades there, just a short bit of vacation, before flying back to the mainland; couldn't let the world start to get comfortable without a trickster at its heels. But the second he lit foot back on the continent, it was still there, a horrible nettling sensation. So really, it was about time he investigated, if only because it was hard to concentrate on food, fun, and the female form with the pesky wrongness distracting him.

It didn't take long to narrow down exactly where the wrongness was hiding. A supposedly haunted house; people had been disappearing there for decades. Actually vanishing without a trace. Police investigations had been launched, and never found a thing, including several of the officers who went missing during the search. Small town superstition being what it is, the investigations were dropped, the house cordoned off, and whenever someone went missing again, casseroles were dropped off at the house of the grieving family, and pursed lips muttered behind closed doors that Sally or Bob had it coming, being stupid enough to venture into the house in the first place.

It was hiding in the basement: hungry, weeping, and alone. Gabriel felt no pity. "I thought Daddy dearest had cast all of you out to starve long ago. I suppose some of you must have been clever enough to find somewhere else to feed. Which makes you pretty dumb to come back. Dirty parasites." He sneered as he pulled out a candy bar from his pocket, and took a bite.

"Shoot. This has almonds…" he said, glancing down at the wrapper. There was a flash of movement, and he suddenly found himself somewhere else, somewhere black and yet unformed, and in a presence he hadn't felt in a long time. A very long time.

Hundreds of wings unfurled from nowhere and covered the angel from the crown of his head to the bottom of his feet, while others flitted about fretfully. "Father. I…it's me, your son, Gabriel. Or, I will be your son Gabriel. Forgive me for intruding, but, I need to get back, and, I don't have enough power to travel so far on my own…"

But of course Gabriel had never really needed to explain.

When he got back, the creature was exactly where he had left it. It was still clutching its face, but this time in pain. It had never taken in so much before; it could barely contain the energy. If it so much as twitched, it would fracture, and flare with the force of a dying star. Gabriel could have left it like this. It would never harm another living thing again, because it would never dare move from this spot until the end of life itself. And it would live to see the end of life itself: what it took from Gabriel would see to that. But he didn't like the feeling of having been robbed. It was…unsettling. The race of creatures that aspired to be angels were unsettling. They were never meant to exist. So Gabriel, fully knowing what it was he did, let a word hang in the air, the same word his father had whispered in his ear before sending him on his way.

And the creature was Undone.

Gabriel sighed as he stood alone in the basement of the house. He knew what being given that word meant. This wouldn't be fun at all, but every kid has chores.

He snapped his fingers, and miracled up a brown coat, a hunting cap, and an old fashioned rifle. "Be very, very quiet," he whispered to no one in particular. "I'm hunting wultures." And then he was gone.

Moments later, on a street not too far from the house that had never been haunted, and where people had never gone missing, there was a noise like an elephant with laryngitis, and a blue box appeared. A head of messy brown hair popped out, followed by a body in a brown jacket with patched elbows, a bow tie, and suspenders. A red headed girl followed him out. "Why did we stop here? This is just a boring old town. Is this Earth? It looks like Earth."

"Yes, it's Earth. Just shut up for a moment, I'm…thinking." The girl waited all of three seconds before loudly asking, "but why are we here?"

"I…don't know. There was…but…I guess I was mistaken." He quickly turned on his heel, and shoved the girl back into the box. "Now, you said you wanted to see a planet, yes? A planet that's not Earth? I have just the one in mind…"

And in a jail cell somewhere far away, an entry in a diary was never written. But there were hundreds of other entries. This one would never be missed.


End file.
